Accidental Truths
by Tuttle4077
Summary: Hogan doesn't know it, but one of his silver-tongued lies is the truth!
1. A Journal of Madness

Top secret. Hush-hush. Don't ask.

Now that that is out of the way, let me just say- I know! I've obviously neglacted my other stories for too long and I ought to work on them before I post anything else. However, because I've neglected them for so long, I hardly know how to write anymore. So I figured a quick little jaunt into another story wouldn't hurt to get my writing back up to par. It's rusty. I AM working on another chapter for Stalag Calls, it's just not going. I've lost something. A little "Tuttle Zing" or something.

Anyway, I'll stop babbling. This is an answer to two challenges: "The Item of Youth" challenge by Sayla and the "Klink? What Klink?" challenge by Tirathon

Have fun and don't shoot me.

* * *

There must've been something wrong with the mirror. That was it. A crack that somehow bounced the light the wrong way. Of course. Simple.

Klink grimaced and moved closer to his mirror, inspecting the surface carefully. No cracks. Maybe it was the poor lighting.

Quickly hurrying to the other side of the room, Klink turned on another lamp and rushed back. No, that wasn't it either. The mirror just gave him the same reflection.

With a sigh of defeat, Klink slumped his shoulders. There was no way around it. A new set of wrinkles had moved in around his eyes. To anyone else, they might've gone by unnoticed, but to Klink, they stood out like a sore thumb. But then again, what did he expect? He had just celebrated his 50th birthday. From there, life went down hill, didn't it?

Klink sighed again and grabbed his cap. He inspected it for a moment before placing it on his bald head. After a moment of inspection in the mirror, he adjusted his cap and put it on an angle. He pulled on his jacket and straightened. Shoulders back, chest out, riding crop firmly under arm, monocle in place. There. Dashing as ever.

With a satisfied smiled, Klink strutted from his quarters and to his office. He made sure he flashed an extra charming smile towards Hilda. His secretary just giggled and he liked to think it was because he had sent her heart fluttering. As he entered his office, he took off his cap and threw it onto the helmet that was on his desk. A very Hogan thing to do. A very- what?

Snapping out of whatever was possessing him to act this way, Klink swiped his cap off his beloved helmet and hung it up on his coat rack. Very Hogan indeed. And the he last thing he needed was to act like the American colonel. True, Hogan had a certain young at heart charm, but Klink was a colonel in the German Luftwaffe. It was serious business. It would be no good to adopt American attitudes- especially with an upcoming visit from General Burkhalter.

Klink groaned and flopped into his chair. Why was the General coming? He had been there no more than two weeks ago. What little hair Klink had left was quickly greying at the thought that Burkhalter was only coming to send him to the Russian front.

Klink rubbed his face. Maybe he should consider an early retirement. Find a little cottage in the mountain, raise goats or something. All this stress was making him feel far too old.

"Kommandant Klink! Kommandant Klink!"

Oh no. Klink buried his face in his hands as he heard his sergeant of the guard enter the outer office. What now?

Suddenly, the door to his office burst open and Schultz barged in. The sergeant immediately bent over, resting his hands on his knees and gulping for breath. "Kommandant- Kommandant Klink!"

With a growl, Klink smacked his desk and rose to his feet. "Schuuuultz! How many times have I told you not to barge into my office!"

"But Komman-"

Klink raised a hand. "None of your excuses, Schultz. Go to the other side of the door and knock. And then when I say enter, you enter!"

Schultz nodded vigorously and shakily straightened and left the office. A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Klink called.

Again, Schultz burst in. "Kommandant Klink, I must make a report."

Klink sat down again. "Go ahead."

"Kommandant, I must report that… I must report that…"

Klink was growing impatient. "Must report what, Schultz?" he asked sweetly. When the sergeant didn't answer right away, Klink again slapped his desk. "What is it Schultz?" he barked.

Schultz sputtered. "I am trying to remember, Kommandant." He held up his hand and started counting on his fingers. "I was walking around the compound. And then I was going to check on the prisoners and then- and then-"

"And then what, Schultz?"

"Oh yes! I remember! And then all this water shot out of the ground."

Klink shot out of his chair. "Schultz, how could you forget a thing like that?"

"Well you see, Herr Kommandant, I knew what I wanted to say but then you-"

"Never mind that, Schultz," Klink said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. He rubbed his chin. "Obviously Hogan is digging a tunnel and hit a pipe. Ah-ha! I've got him this time! Let's go!"

Klink grabbed his cap and his riding crop and excitedly marched out of his office. He had him this time. There was no way that Hogan could talk his way around this. How else would he explain a spring of water in the middle of the camp?

Before he could open the door leading outside, Klink paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. How would Hogan explain that. Klink groaned. It would be fantastic to be sure. Miracle mineral water? The fountain of youth?

Klink snorted at the thought. Hadn't Hogan already tried that one? Or both? He should look it up in his journal. He had written every insane excuse Hogan had given him in there. Maybe he could make some sort of radio program out of it after the war.

There he went again. That was something that Hogan would do too. He definitely needed the war to end and soon, before Hogan rubbed off on him any more.

"Kommandant?" Schultz said, breaking Klink out of his thoughts. "Is there something wrong with the door?"

"Nothing, Schultz," Klink grumbled as he opened the door and marched out into the compound. As expected, there was a group of prisoners huddled around something. As the office door shut, Colonel Hogan himself looked up from the group.

"Good morning, Kommandant Klink!" he called.

"If it is a good morning, Colonel Hogan, then you had better enjoy it while you can," Klink said as he approached. "Because you will not be seeing another one for a long time!"

Hogan blinked innocently. "Whatever do you mean, Kommandant?"

Klink stamped his foot. "You know what I mean, Hogan. Two weeks in the cooler for attempting to escape."

"Me? Attempting to escape?" Hogan asked in shock, putting a hand to his chest. "Kommandant, how could you accuse me of such a thing."

Klink waggled his finger at Hogan. "I'm on to your little tricks Hogan. There's no way around it. You were digging a tunnel and hit a water pipe. Now off to the cooler with you. Schultz."

Schultz moved to grabbed Hogan's arm, but Hogan swatted his hand away. "Wait a minute, Kommandant. I protest. Are you seriously accusing me of digging a tunnel?"

"Yes!" Why did they always have to play this game? Why did Klink let him do this? All he had to do was order Schultz to take him away and walk off, ignoring any protests. But Klink found himself waiting for Hogan's argument.

"Ha! Of all the ridiculous things," Hogan said with a bark of a laugh. "I never heard anything so ridiculous!"

The other prisoners voiced their agreement and laughed as well. Klink felt his face turn red and his body start to shake. He took a deep breath before speaking. "And just what makes it so ridiculous, Hogan?"

"Well take a look at where we're standing, Colonel!"

Klink looked around. They were standing halfway between his office and Colonel Hogan's barracks. "I'm looking, Hogan, but I don't see your point," Klink said impatiently.

"If I really was digging a tunnel then I would dig towards the fence, not the middle of the camp."

"Hmmm. That sounds reasona- Hogan! You are not talking me out of this!"

Hogan shrugged. "I'm not trying to do that at all, sir. I know you already know."

"Already know what?" Klink pressed curiously. What was Hogan getting at?

"Oh come on, Colonel, you don't have to hide it from me," Hogan said as he slid closer to Klink. He dropped his voice to a whisper before continuing. "You just want the men to think it's some sort of broken pipe, I get it. You don't want them to know what this really is."

"What is it, Hogan? What?" This didn't make any sense. Why would he want Hogan's men to think he thought it was a broken pipe from a tunnel they themselves had dug. Klink stifled a groan. His head was starting to hurt.

"A natural spring of course."

"Now why would I want to hide that from your men?" Klink whispered fiercely.

"It's not just any spring. Oh but you know that already."

"Yes, of course I do," Klink hissed. No he didn't. Oh this was ridiculous. Hogan was just making up some story. A few weeks in the cooler wasn't the worst thing. Why didn't Hogan just admit that he had a horrible sense of direction, had dug in the wrong direction and had hit a pipe? But still, Klink was unable to break away from Hogan's tale. "Remind me again what it is."

"The fountain of youth, sir. One gulp of this and-"

That was it. He had had it. No more. "Hogan! Enough of this. Into the cooler! Two weeks and not a day less! And I want that tunnel filled in by then end of the day! Schultz! Take him away!" And with that, Klink spun on his heel and stalked off.

Fountain of youth indeed. He could skip writing this one in his journal. Hogan had already used it.


	2. Play Ball!

Ya'at'eeh!

So, funny story- a hogan (hoe-gawn) is a traditional Navajo dwelling and so now, whenever I see "Hogan" I try to pronounce it the Navajo way. But don't worry, I'll readjust!

...I miss fry bread... with peanut butter...

* * *

Hogan didn't intend to keep quiet as Schultz led him to the cooler. Of all the times for Klink not believe him, it had to be when he was telling the truth. The half-truth anyway. Okay, so it wasn't the fountain of youth, but a very muddy Kinch had sworn up and down that they hadn't hit any water pipes. The water had just appeared out of nowhere while they were digging an extension to the kitchen. Hogan had been out in the compound when it had happened. He didn't have a chance to see the tunnel but Kinch didn't look very optimistic when he had asked how long it would take to repair.

"I'm telling you Schultz, we didn't hit any water pipe!" Hogan cried indignantly.

"Colonel Hogan, I do not care," Schultz said with an uppity tone. "Kommandant Klink has given the order and when Kommandant Klink gives an order I follow that order." Schultz said as he opened a cell for Hogan.

"Ever thought of being a waiter, Schultz? You'd be great."

"Haha, jolly joker. Will you have more jokes when you come out?" Schultz asked with sweet sarcasm.

"I'll see what I can come up with in two days," Hogan said with a shrug.

"Two days?" Schultz's demeanour immediately changed as he twisted his face in confusion, as if he were trying to remember what Klink had said. "No, I am sure it was two weeks, Colonel Hogan."

"Schuuuultz," Hogan drawled, "you and I both know that two weeks is a cruel, humanly unjustifiable punishment to be inflicted only by a sadist! Is that what you think of your commanding officer?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean…" Schultz growled in frustration. "I mean… Colonel Hogan, I do not know _what_ I mean, but I will see you when Kommandant Klink orders me to get you. Now into the cooler."

Hogan held up his hands in surrender. "All right, Schultz, I'm going. But I'm going to write my congressman about this."

Schultz didn't answer as he shut the door. Hogan heard him fumble with his keys. "It's the big one," Hogan supplied helpfully after hearing a few keys being tried in the lock.

"I know what I am doing," Schultz grumbled in reply.

Hogan just shrugged and sighed. "How long is this going to take, Schultz?" he asked, glancing at the tunnel entrance.

"I have it!" Schultz announced. "And now, I am off. Enjoy your two weeks, Colonel Hogan."

"Two days," Hogan replied casually. He heard Schultz grumble again and he couldn't help but grin. When was Schultz going to realize that he was always right. Sure, Klink might not let him out for two weeks, but nothing said that Schultz wouldn't accidentally catch sight of him somewhere.

"Two weeks, two days, two minutes- it's all the same thing," Hogan said to himself as he crouched down by the entrance. He was just about to pry it loose when he heard Schultz at the end of the hall.

"No, no, no, it is verboten!" Schultz yelled. Hogan straightened and listened at the door.

"Come on Schultz, two minutes tops." It was Kinch. What was he doing in here?

"Nein! I must protest. Kommandant Kl-"

"Will never have to know," Hogan shouted. "What's up, Kinch?"

"Just came to give you your lucky baseball and glove," Kinch answered.

"I am sorry but I must protest," Schultz repeated. "You are not supposed to be in here; Colonel Hogan is in solitary and-"

"Aw come on, Schultz," Hogan cried. "Are you really going to make me sit out my two weeks without even one little baseball to entertain me? That's practically torture!"

"I would love to let you have the baseball, Colonel Hogan, you know I would," Schultz said apologetically. "But the Kommandant has given the order and-"

"There's strudel in it for you," Kinch interrupted.

There was a pause and Hogan could almost see Schultz weighing his options. "That changes things," Schultz said finally. Hogan just grinned as Schultz unlocked and opened the door. Kinch was standing beside him, ball and glove in hand. He made no move to hand it over and looked up at Schultz.

"Do you mind, Schultz?"

"Mind? Mind what? You are just giving him a baseball. You are just giving him a baseball, aren't you?"

"Sure, Schultz, sure," Hogan assured him with a cheeky grin. "What else would he be doing. Of course if you're standing here and Kinch happens to mention something that happened while you were on duty then I can't guarantee that-"

Schultz held up a hand, cutting Hogan off. "Colonel Hogan, Kinchloe, I have decided that I will stand over there until you are done," he said, pointing to the end of the hall.

The two prisoners waited him to be out of earshot before they spoke again. "Okay Kinch, what are you doing here? You didn't come just to give me a ball, did you?"

Kinch looked guilty as he handed over the ball and glove. "Actually, I did."

"What?" Hogan hissed.

"All that water washed out the tunnels leading to the cooler," Kinch explained.

"Great. Are you saying I'm stuck here for two weeks?"

"'Fraid so," Kinch apologized. "We'll try and clear it out as soon as we can, but it may take the whole two weeks."

"What happened, exactly, Kinch? You sure you didn't hit a pipe?"

"I promise. We were just digging and suddenly all this water burst out of the ground. The tunnels are a mess."

"Perfect," Hogan groused. He was not looking forward to being cooped up in his little cell. Now his only hope was that Klink would find it in his cold, black heart to let him out early. "Is there any good news?"

"My radio didn't get damaged," Kinch offered. "And we can still get out the emergency tunnel."

"Well that's a start," Hogan muttered sourly. "At least we didn't lose the whole operation."

"We'll get it back on track," Kinch promised. "And we'll find a way to talk to you if London gives us anything."

"Sure. Anything else?" Hogan asked. There probably wasn't, but Hogan wanted to drag out the visit for as long as possible if he really was going to be all by himself for two whole weeks. Of all the rotten luck. Maybe one of his men would purposely get himself thrown in the cooler so he could have some company. Nah. They were loyal, but not _that_ loyal.

Kinch shrugged. "Don't know if you care, but the water that came up is pretty sweet, actually."

"Sweet?" Hogan repeated.

"Yeah. It tastes good. You want me to bring you some?"

"Nah. Thanks anyway," Hogan replied. Suddenly, an idea flashed through his mind and he snapped his fingers. "Got it."

"Got what?" Kinch asked, sounding puzzled.

"Klink thinks we hit a water pipe, right?"

"That's why he sent you to the cooler," Kinch reminded him, causing Hogan to scrunch his nose. He quickly recovered and continued with his thought.

"So, let's prove him wrong. Bottle up some of that water and take it to him. If it tastes so different, he'd have to know it didn't come from any of our water."

"Sure, but he wouldn't put it past us to sweeten it up ourselves," Kinch pointed out.

"Then make the evidence irrefutable," Hogan went on. "Get him to check the water around camp. Since we didn't hit a pipe, it should all be running fine." That would get him out in no time flat.

"All right, we'll see what we can do," Kinch promised. He took a step back. "Well… have fun, I guess."

"Thanks a lot, Kinch," Hogan grumped, folding his arms over his chest.

"No problem," Kinch replied with the tiniest smirk. He looked over to Schultz. "Ready to go, Schultz."

"Good. Now, back to the barracks, back, back, back." Schultz shooed Kinch away and closed Hogan's cell.

With a sigh, Hogan plopped himself onto the cold cement and started throwing his ball against the wall. It was going to be a long two weeks.


	3. Corruptible Men

Klink eyed the three prisoners that had just entered his office suspiciously. They looked innocent enough. But then again, they _were_ Hogan's men. Klink recalled his Hogan-like behaviour that morning. Goodness, if Hogan could rub off on him like that, what about these men, who spent more time with the American colonel than he ever would? What were they trying to pull over him?

"It's no use arguing," Klink informed the prisoners before they could say anything. "Colonel Hogan will spend two weeks in the cooler and that is final."

"Oh but Colonel Klink," Corporal LeBeau pleaded, "you only sent him there because you thought we were digging a tunnel."

"I know all about your tunnel," Klink replied. "And if it's not filled in by tomorrow, Colonel Hogan will spend another week in the cooler."

"But that's just it, Kommandant," the American, Sergeant Carter, started to explain. "We weren't digging a tunnel! Honest we weren't!" He crossed his heart and held up three fingers. "Scout's honour, sir."

Klink scowled. He probably wasn't even a Scout. Oh how Hogan had corrupted these men. "Enough of this. I want all three of you out of-" It was then that he noticed the jars of water they were holding. Curiosity got the better of him as he pointed to them. "What are those?"

"Proof, Kommandant," Carter explained. "This is the water that came up. Taste it. It didn't come from the camp, that's for sure."

Aha! It _was_ a trick. The water was probably drugged. Did they really think he would fall for that? How insulting. "Is that so?" Klink snapped sarcastically.

"Sure," Carter said cheerfully, Klink's tone apparently lost on him. "It tastes good too. Kinda sweet. Not like any natural water I've ever tasted. Go ahead and have some!"

Klink smacked his desk. He momentarily wondered if his poor desk would just fall apart one day from all his smacking. Shaking his head, he got back to the task at hand. "Do you really expect me to buy that? It's some sort of trick!"

"Oh for the love of-" the British corporal muttered before cutting himself off. "How 'bout this, Kommandant- me and my mates will each take a drink." Klink just remained silent, one eyebrow arched sceptically. Newkirk just shrugged. "All right lads." In unison, the three prisoners each took a big gulp from their jugs. "What I tell you, Kommandant?"

"Hmph." Klink was not impressed. "You've only proven it's not drugged."

"Try it yourself, Kommandant," Carter suggested. He gave Klink an innocent smile and offered him the water.

Klink took the offered water with an exasperated sigh. Why was he doing this? It was one thing to let Hogan get away with this sort of thing, but these prisoners were enlisted men- hardly worth his attention. Still, Klink found himself taking a cautious sip.

The taste was hard to describe. Sweet, yes, but there was something more to it. Something Klink couldn't put his finger on. "Interesting," Klink mumbled and took another sip.

"You can bet your boots it didn't come from the camp, boy!" Carter exclaimed. Klink shot him a scathing look, causing Carter to add a quick and apologetic "Sir".

"And how do I know you didn't just sweeten it yourselves?" My, he was certainly suspicious today. More so than usual. But what did he expect from himself? He had been with these prisoners for years and he couldn't begin to count all the times they and Hogan had made a fool of him.

"Now why would we do that?" LeBeau asked impatiently. "Why don't you have your guards check the water around camp? If we did hit a pipe, it would not run properly."

"Your suggestion is duly noted," Klink said with a wave of the hand. He had had enough of these prisoners. "Dismissed."

Newkirk and LeBeau set their water on his desk before all three offered him a salute and high-tailed it out of his office. Klink glanced over the water and snorted. "Sergeant Carter," he called. Carter poked his head back in. He was the more honest one in the bunch, Klink decided. He would give him a straight answer. "Does Colonel Hogan honestly expect me to think this water is from the fountain of youth?"

Carter looked sheepish. "He probably does. But you know the colonel- always making jokes." Klink just grunted. "Well, after all, sir, our lives are pretty boring. We have to do something to amuse ourselves and Colonel Hogan, he always says that-"

"Sergeant?"

Carter stopped mid-ramble. "Yes Kommandant?"

"Forget it."

Another sheepish grin. "Yes sir." And with that he was gone.

Klink sighed and sunk back down into his chair. Despite what General Burkhalter had said in the past about his position as Kommandant being the safest and easiest in Germany, Klink seriously wondered if he would make it through the war in one piece. Even if his body made it through, he wasn't sure his sanity stood a chance.

Thankfully, the day passed rather quickly and quietly. It turned out the water in camp was running fine. Could it be true that the water shooting up in the compound was really a natural spring? It was possible, he supposed. He had even gone out and tasted it straight from the source. There was no way the prisoners could've sweetened it from there. Another strike in Hogan's favour. Either way, he had had the prisoners build a trough to catch it all. Throughout the day he had taken a few drinks here and there and by the time he was getting ready for bed, it was almost gone.

As usual, Klink spent a good twenty minutes in front of the mirror, admiring himself. It didn't take long for him to notice something different. He peered closer into the mirror. The wrinkles that had caused him such worry that morning were gone. He felt around his eyes to double check. Yup, gone. Could it be that he had just imagined them? Maybe it was the early morning light?

Klink shrugged and was about to leave it at that when something else caught his attention. Running his hand through the little hair he had left, he noticed it was a little darker than usual. Maybe it was the evening light playing tricks.

Suspiciously, Klink glanced at the little water he had left. Could it be true? Was it really- oh but that was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Klink chuckled to himself as he peeled off his uniform and changed into his pyjamas. Hmmm… a little roomier than usual. Klink shook the thought out of his head. Ridiculous. Hogan was planting thoughts into his head and he was just being gullible for letting them get to him.

Still, Klink couldn't resist the temptation to finish off the water before he settled into his bed.


	4. Rude Awakening

Klink hated his alarm clock. Hated it. Occasionally, he dreamt about tossing it into the cooler and letting it rot there for the rest of the war with whichever prisoner had been giving him trouble- usually Hogan. But dreams rarely came true and so Klink found himself waking up because the blasted thing was ringing its bells off at some ungodly hour in the morning.

With a groan, Klink reached over to turn it off. Or smash it- which ever was easier. Turned out neither was, because Klink couldn't seem to reach his nightstand. That would mean he would have to move, get up, roll over, something to get to it. Klink opted for the "something" option and buried his head under his pillow, pressing it against his ears. It only took a moment for the clock to wind down and Klink relaxed. There.

Maybe it was because his bed felt so big, or that his blankets were nice and heavy and warm, but Klink didn't want to get up. But there was a price attached to running the toughest prisoner of war camp in Germany. Early morning rolls calls were just the tip of the iceberg. There were escape attempts to kibosh, prisoners to be cowed, requisitions to make up, inspections to prepare for.

Now there was a reason to stay in bed if he ever needed one. Maybe he could hide in his bed until after General Burkhalter's visit.

But, of course, that was impossible- after all, how would it look to arrive on the Russian front still curled in bed and in pyjamas? On second thought, he probably wouldn't be the first.

As fun as it was to procrastinate, it wasn't getting him very far. It was time to get up and face the day and whatever challenges it would bring. But then again, Hogan was in the cooler. The day was looking brighter already.

With a yawn, Klink stretched and slid out of bed. He mechanically grabbed his monocle from his nightstand and put it in place. There was no point in starting the day if he couldn't see. Although, he had to admit, it didn't feel quite right this morning. And was it his imagination or was his nightstand higher this morning.

Ridiculous. Klink shook his head to clear it and marched into the bathroom. Well, he would've marched but he just ended up tripping over his pyjamas and crashing to the floor. Klink let out a grunt as he propped himself onto his elbows and looked back at his feet. Goodness, he couldn't even see them. His pants covered them up completely. Had it grown in the wash? Of course not. Who ever heard of clothes growing in the wash? But if they hadn't grown then had he shrunk?

Again, ridiculous. Klink picked himself off the ground and hiked up his pyjama pants. It didn't do much. Especially since his pyjama shirt nearly touched the ground too. What was going on? He frantically started gathering the excess fabric of his nightclothes and just a quickly stopped cold.

He spent a good ten minutes staring at his hands before he sprung into action.

"SCHUUUUUUULTZ!"

* * *

Colonel Hogan hated spending the night in the cooler. Hated it. For one thing, his baseball glove made a comfier pillow than the one on his cot. Second, even in the late Spring, the cooler was still freezing during the night. Attached to that- third, his blanket was nothing more than a pathetic, scratchy little rag. And finally, while he was stuck in there, he had absolutely no idea what was going outside the cooler.

Hogan lay on his stiff as a board cot, arms folded over his chest, staring up at the ceiling. To the outside observer, he might've looked calm, asleep, or just plain bored, but Hogan's mind was going a mile a minute. How the heck was he going to get out of there? There was no way he would last two whole weeks.

He slid is gaze towards the tunnel entrance. With any luck, his men were working around the clock to dig through to the cooler. But even if they were, it would probably take a day or two.

Hogan cursed under his breath. He didn't even know how bad it was down there. All he knew is what Kinch had told him and that hadn't been much. He knew the escape tunnel was clear and that the radio was still working. But that brought up more things to be anxious about. Had London called during the night? Did they have a new mission that needed to be taken care of ASAP? Kinch had promised he would find a way to contact him if that happened, but it was still early in the morning. Still before roll call, Hogan confirmed with a quick glance at his watch. There was no way to reach him until after that. And then what? He was still stuck where he was.

His only hope was that Klink would let him off early for good behaviour. And that wasn't likely to happen.

A noise at the end of the hall snapped Hogan out his thoughts. He checked his watch again. Too early for roll call still. Maybe Kinch had snuck across the compound to see him about something.

Jumping off his cot, Hogan ran to the door and pressed up against it. No, it wasn't Kinch. He could hear keys jangling. That was something, for some reason, that they didn't have- a set of cooler keys. He mentally made a note to acquire a set when he got out. After all, whoever heard of prisoners of war not having keys to their own cooler? Tunnels just weren't enough for an operation this big.

Heavy footsteps. Schultz. Now what was he doing here this early in the morning? Klink was probably still brushing his pearly whites, not giving orders to have him released. Whatever it was though, it was important- from the sound of it, Schultz was practically running.

"Colonel Hogan, Colonel Hogan, Colonel Hogan!" Schultz cried from the other side of the door, his keys making an awful racket.

Hogan settled back onto his cot and casually glanced up as Schultz opened the door. "Something the matter, Schultz?" Schultz could only nod hysterically. Hogan lazily held his watch up. "Could it wait a while, Schultz? I need my beauty sleep."

"Colonel Hogan, you must come with me right away!" And then, without even waiting for an answer, Schultz grabbed his arm, pulled Hogan to his feet and started out the door.

"Hold it, Schultz," Hogan cried in surprise. Schultz released him and Hogan brushed himself off with shaky hands. What was going on? Schultz wasn't the type to just grab a guy- an officer no less- and pull him out of bed. Hogan's heart plummeted into his stomach. "What's wrong Schultz? Are my men-"

"I have not seen them yet. But the Kommandant- the Kommandant- the-"

Hogan let out a sigh of relief. His men, as far as Schultz knew, were okay. But something had put Schultz into a tizzy. Something about Klink. But Schultz couldn't seem to form an explanation. He just stood there, stuttering and waving his arms towards the door.

Hogan grabbed his cap and used it to motion to the door. "All right, I'm ready now. Lead on, Schultz."

Hogan practically had to jog to keep up with Schultz. Whatever was going on, it was something big. Schultz never moved that fast for anything- not even LeBeau's freshly made strudel.

Hogan scanned the compound as they raced across it. Nothing was on fire. No dead bodies. Not even a visiting staff car. "What's all this about, Schultz?" Hogan asked as they came up to Klink's quarters. "Klink die in his sleep?" he quipped. But even as he did, he felt a chill go over him. He could joke all he wanted, but if that really were the case then the whole operation would be in a heap of trouble.

"Worse," Schultz replied and opened the door. Hogan stepped in and took a look around. Nothing seemed out of place. "The bedroom," Schultz said, pointing.

Hogan took a deep breath and headed towards Klink's room. Again, nothing was out of the ordinary. Except the scruffy haired kid sitting in an ridiculously oversized pair of pyjamas on the bed. "Who's the kid, Schultz? Where's Klink?"

And then the light bulb went off and smacked Hogan upside the head. And try as he might, Hogan couldn't ignore his intuition as it screamed in his ear.

It couldn't be. It was ludicrous, preposterous, absurd, not to mention completely and totally impossible. Hogan just gave Schultz a pleading look, waiting for the sergeant to say something that would contradict his gut feeling. "No, Schultz. No."

"But Colonel Hogan-" Schultz said, pointing to the boy.

"No," Hogan repeated, holding up his hand. "It's impossible, Schultz. You know that. I know that. I mean, what did he do? Drink from the-"

"Fountain of youth?" the kid finished.

Hogan looked back at him and then heavenwards. "Oh boy."


	5. Kids is Kids

We need to start up a forum discussion again. I feel so... out of place or something. Don't know if that makes sense.

Anywho, on with the show.

* * *

He still didn't want to say it aloud. Maybe if he ignored it the problem would go away. But there really was no way around it.

Colonel Hogan took a deep breath. "Klink?" he asked. The kid nodded. Hogan just dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for what he knew was coming.

And there it was. Suddenly, whatever was keeping Klink together unravelled. "Hogan! Look at me!" Klink wailed. "I am, I'm, I- You did this!" Klink jumped off his bed and pointed an accusing finger up at Hogan.

"Me?" Hogan repeated. "I didn't do a thing, I-"

"You told me that spring was the fountain of youth!" Klink cried indignantly.

"And apparently I was right." Boy, was he ever right. "How much of that stuff did you drink anyway?"

"Only what your men brought me. Your sergeant, Carter, said that you-"

Hogan snapped his fingers. "My men. Did they drink any of that stuff?" He was halfway to the door when Klink stopped him.

"Hogan, how can you think of your men at a time like this?" Klink asked, sounding offended. "What about me? Do you know what Berlin will do when they find out I'm-" Klink looked himself over- "five?"

"Well they won't send you to the Russian front, that's for sure."

Klink suddenly looked terrified. "No. But what _will_ they do?" he asked, as if he were seriously pondering it.

How should he know? He didn't even know the US Army's policy on what to do when an officer suddenly de-aged into a five year old. "I don't know… have your parents to come get you?"

"But Hogan, my parents are dead." Klink paled and put his hands on his thin cheeks. "They'll send me to an orphanage! Hogan! What am I going to do? I'm too old to be in an orphanage!"

"All right, let's not panic," Hogan said calmly. But Klink was rapidly spinning into hysterics. Kneeling down, Hogan grabbed him on the shoulders and shook him. Klink stopped and looked up at him with big blue eyes.

Aw geez. Hogan was a sucker for kids with big, innocent eyes like that. Quickly, he reminded himself that Klink wasn't _really_ a kid. He was still Kommandant Klink.

Suddenly it dawned on him. Despite everything, Klink was still Klink… more or less.

"All right, calm down," he said gently. Klink sniffled and nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "They won't send you to an orphanage. Promise." Hogan looked Klink over. There wasn't much to look at. Klink was just a scrawny little kid, a little short for a five year old, with a mess of black hair and a thin little face. "Look, I know you may not see it, but there _is_ good news."

"What's that, Hogan?" Klink asked, his little voice filled with hopelessness.

"The good news is that whatever that water did to your body, it didn't affect your mind."

Klink seemed to take a moment to consider that. "I suppose you're right." Then he stomped his foot and jabbed Hogan's chest with his finger. "Never mind my mind, what about my body?"

Hogan couldn't help but grin. "Boy, I wish more dames had your attitude."

"Hogan!"

"Sorry, sir. Not an appropriate thing to say with kids around." Klink just stuck his tongue out at him.

But really, this really was no laughing matter. In fact, the situation was downright serious. Bizarre, but serious. Hogan couldn't run his operation without Klink and Klink couldn't keep being kommandant if he stayed that way.

"Uh, Kommandant," Schultz said tentatively.

"What is it, Schultz?"

"Kommandant, I do not want to interrupt, but I must report that it is almost time for roll call."

Klink's eyes grew wide. Suddenly, he grabbed Hogan's jacket lapels and shook them. "Hogan, what am I going to do? If I go out there- the prisoners. Colonel, they will riot! Or try to escape or-"

"I give you my word as an officer and a gentlemen that they won't do any of that," Hogan promised as he pulled his jacket out of Klink's grasp. "They might not even be able to. They might be-" Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a bad feeling about this. "Schultz, get the men ready for roll call."

"Right away," Schultz said, firing off a salute.

"Just a moment, Schultz." Schultz stayed still and Klink fixed him with a hard look. "May I remind you that despite my… condition, I am still the kommandant of this camp and Hogan is just a prisoner. I will order roll call, not him."

"Of course, Herr Kind. I mean, Klink. I mean, jawohl Herr Kommandant."

Klink just rolled his eyes. "Dismissed Schultz."

"I'll go with you, Schultz."

"I did not dismiss you, Hogan," Klink pointed out as Hogan stood.

"Look, Klink, I gotta check on my men."

"But Hogan, what am I supposed to do?" Klink asked.

Hogan shrugged. "Do what you always do, I guess." He pointed to Klink's long pants. "Just don't trip on your way out."

Klink started protesting again, but Hogan ignored him and raced out to the compound. "Don't be in such a hurry, Schultz," Hogan said when he caught up to him. "Give me some time to make sure the guys are all right." Schultz nodded and Hogan ran to his own barracks. He could hear the cries of surprise from inside. Great. So Klink wasn't the only one he had to worry about. Hogan took a moment to take a breath and prepared himself before he opened the door.

His preparation hadn't done much to help him. The sight still surprised him. With a groan, Hogan slumped against the door as he looked over his "men". Everyone in the barracks had been affected from what he could tell. They all looked about five or six, he guessed. Great.

LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch were in the middle of the barracks in their oversized pyjamas, yelling at each other. The others in the barracks just looked dumbfounded. And Carter. A wave of panic suddenly washed over Hogan. Where was Carter? Oh great. He had probably drank himself into non-existence.

"Colonel!"

Hogan whirled around and instantly felt a note of relief. There was Carter, standing next to the door, out of his immediate line of sight. It took a moment to realize that, while Carter had still been affected, he wasn't as young as the rest. Maybe twelve and as tanned as a strip of leather.

At Carter's cry, everyone stopped and looked up at Hogan with wide-eyed confusion.

Hogan cleared his throat. "I see you shaved your moustache, Kinch," he said dryly.

Kinch's eyes grew wider and a carefully brought a hand to his face. And then all hell broke loose as the prisoners scrambled up to Hogan and started yelling again.

"All right! Calm down!" Hogan yelled over the noise to no avail. "QUIET!" Suddenly, everyone grew still and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to pull out some sort of magic wand that would fix the problem.

"Mon colonel," LeBeau finally squeaked, "what happened?" He looked himself over. "I am… short!"

"Not that there's much difference," Newkirk muttered.

LeBeau's face grew red and his little frame started to shake. He ball a fist and swung it at Newkirk. Newkirk ducked and tackled the Frenchmen. The yelling started up again around the barracks as the two prisoners wrestled on the ground.

Oh brother. Even Klink was more put together than those two. "Carter, help me out," Hogan ordered. Hogan grabbed Newkirk and pulled him off LeBeau. Carter grabbed LeBeau, who squirmed in his arms.

"Let me go!" LeBeau cried indignantly, his arms flailing. Carter just looked up at Hogan, waiting for instructions.

"All right, stop it. You're acting like… kids," Hogan said flatly. "Even Klink's handling this better."

"Klink?" Newkirk repeated, craning his head back to look at Hogan. "Blimey, is he like this too?"

"'Fraid so," Hogan confirmed.

"But Colonel, I don't understand," Kinch said. "What did this. It's not like that water out there really is… Is it?"

Hogan just nodded. "Don't ask me. I don't know. But it's the only thing that's new in camp." He turned his attention to Carter, who was still struggling to keep LeBeau in his arms. "Carter, why aren't you like them?" he asked, waving a hand towards all the other prisoners.

"Oh, gee, I don't know," Carter shrugged. "I guess I didn't drink as much as the others. I didn't really like it, sir. I mean, it was just flavoured water. You see, Colonel, I think if a drink is going to be sweet, there ought to be something to it. Like juice- there's pulp, there's body. But that water was too much like tea, just fla-"

"All right Carter, I get it."

There was a long pause as if no one knew what to do next. Hogan took the opportunity to study his men. Kinch stood quietly, waiting for Hogan to speak. He was a sturdy looking kid, with not much expression on his face. Not much different than his normal self. Beneath the calm exterior, Hogan knew Kinch was taking in everything going on around him.

Newkirk, Hogan noticed with a small grin, was chubby. He had a ruddy complexion and his hair was much lighter than usual. More of a dirty blond than brown.

As for Carter, he was fit and lean, as if he spent most of his time working around a farm- which, at that age, he probably had. And he was dark. The Sioux in him, Hogan supposed. But he had never seen him as dark, not even in the dead of summer after a day of holding reflective tins to his face all day.

If it were at all possible, LeBeau, who had finally calmed down, looked even ornerier than usual. Normally, a scowl from LeBeau would make even Hogan pause. Now, Hogan could practically read his own epitaph in this miniature version's expression. He was the one who broke the silence.

"Carter, put me down," he said through gritted teeth. Carter looked to Hogan for confirmation and he nodded. Carter set LeBeau down and took half a step back. Hogan was tempted to do likewise but didn't get a chance as the door opened.

"Colonel Hogan?" Schultz asked as he peered in. "Them too?"

"Yup."

"All of them?"

"All of them," Hogan said. "Do you know anything about the rest of the camp, Schultz?"

"Ja. They are already falling out for roll call. I have seen a few that are… that way," Schultz finally said.

"Great. Well, come on _boys_, let's fall out for roll call," Hogan said wryly.

"Are you crazy, Colonel?" LeBeau asked. "Why are we even having roll call? There are more important things to worry about!"

Hogan couldn't give him an answer but he made a good point. Klink and a good chunk of his men were kids, for Pete sakes. Roll call was the least of their worries. But, at the same time, roll call brought a sense of normalcy that Hogan felt himself craving at the moment. Forgoing roll call would've just made everything more bizarre. Besides, roll call would let him know if anyone had gone missing. And the only way someone would've gone missing was if they drank themselves into nothing.

"Come on, let's go."

Schultz stepped aside and let everyone through the door, counting them as they passed. "Colonel Hogan, there are only fourteen!" Schultz exclaimed.

"What?" Hogan stiffened and looked over his men. "Olsen. Where's Olsen?" He was sure he had seen him earlier.

"Right here, Colonel," a voice called from inside. Hogan turned back into the barracks and found Olsen cowering on his top bunk. "I can't get down," Olsen explained. "It's too high!" He cautiously peered over the edge and then jumped back against the wall.

Hogan rolled his eyes. Maybe that water had affected their heads a bit. "All right, come here." Hogan held his hands out for Olsen. "Come on, Olsen, we don't have all day," he said when Olsen hesitated.

Finally, Olsen moved close enough for Hogan to grab him. Olsen held tightly to him, eyes squeezed shut and legs tucked up against his chest. Hogan tried to set him down but Olsen wouldn't let go. As much as he tried, Hogan couldn't pry himself loose from Olsen's grip.

"Sergeant!" Hogan finally cried, exasperated.

Slowly, Olsen opened his eyes and peeked down at the ground and then back at Hogan. A sheepish grin crossed his face. "Erm, sorry, Colonel." He let go of Hogan, who set him on the ground. "Don't know what came over me, sir." And with that, he scurried past Hogan and out the door.

Hogan stood in silence for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. Something told him that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

* * *

Carter's my mouthpiece today. I freakin' hate flavored water and tea... and kool-aid. Blech. Yes, I am a freak- just go with it.


	6. An Inconvenient Realization

Two chapters so quick. I know, I'm amazing. And sick. I hate being sick. But it gives me time to write. But, not anymore. Gotta go to work. Lame!

* * *

Klink was practically hyperventilating with all the deep breaths he was taking. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go out there and face his men and his prisoners looking like this. Hogan had promised that nothing would happen, but since when could he trust Hogan? After all, this whole terrible situation was the American's fault. He wasn't exactly sure how Hogan was responsible, he just was. Everything unusual that happened in this camp was Hogan's fault. But then again, Hogan was also the one who solved every problem that came up. Klink would just have to trust that he would get them out of this mess too.

Klink glanced up at his wall clock. The prisoners would be lining up. He wondered how many of them had been affected. The men who had brought him in the water probably were, but to what extent? Had any of his guards been affected?

All the answers lay outside the door. He just needed to go out there and assess the damage. And yet he was stuck firmly in place.

What he needed was something to boost his confidence. Klink snorted at the thought and looked himself over. There was no way he could be confident. He had ditched his pants- they were too long and too big around to stay up- and was wearing nothing but his oversized shirt. His sleeves were so long that the dragged on the ground behind him. What was worse, he couldn't even wear his monocle without getting dizzy. All in all, he looked nothing like the fierce kommandant that struck fear into the hearts of his prisoners. Instead, he just looked like a helpless little kid who had been playing in his father's wardrobe.

Well, Hogan would have to keep his prisoners in line. And if he didn't, Klink would order his guards to shoot anyone who so much as thought of saying "Aw" in front of him. It would be hard for them to contain themselves though, Klink had to admit. After all, he was one adorable kid.

There was no use in delaying the inevitable, Klink finally realized. He had to get out there. But not without his hat and his riding crop.

With some effort, Klink pushed a chair up next to his coat rack and climbed up to grab his hat. He placed it on his head, only to have it fall down over his eyes. He pushed it back and climbed down. After grabbing his riding crop and tucking it firmly under his arm, he marched outside and onto his porch.

He felt a twinge of relief as he noted that the men lined up outside barracks two were in the same boat as he was. There were a few other prisoners sprinkled around the camp who were affected as well. But, thankfully, all of his guards seemed to be intact, although a few of them were laughing themselves silly. Well, they had better not laugh at him. He still had the power to send them to the Russian front.

"REPOOOOOOORT!" Klink cried in the biggest voice he could muster.

Any and all noise stopped as everyone turned their attention to him. He squirmed a little at their gazes, but otherwise tried to retain a dignified air.

Schultz turned and gave a smart salute. "All present and accounted for!"

"As it should be!" Klink said, trying to sound casual. "No one escapes Stalag 13, no one! Give up all your foolish ideas of trying!"

Did someone just snort? Klink scanned the compound, looking for the culprit. He didn't see anyone laughing and so he continued. "You may be wondering about my condition. As you see, I'm not the only one affected. If you have any questions, you can ask Colonel Hogan."

"Colonel, I have a question myself," Hogan called from his place in line.

"What is it, Hogan?" Klink asked impatiently. As if he could tell Hogan anything he didn't already know.

"Requesting permission for everyone affected by this to meet in the Rec Hall for a meeting," Hogan replied.

That was a good idea. "Yes, permission granted."

"That includes you, Kommandant," Hogan pointed out.

Klink felt his cheeks burn and he stomped the ground. "Yes, thank-you, Hogan," Klink muttered through his teeth. "Diiiis-missed!" No one moved. "I said dismissed! Don't think for a second that I can't have you all thrown in the cooler or-" he turned a dangerous eye to one of his guards who was trying hard not to snicker- "the Russian front!" The guard straightened and wiped the smile off his face. That was better.

The prisoners broke up and a few made their way to Hogan. Klink himself ran down the steps and up to the American colonel. Without even realizing it, he reached out to grab Hogan's hand as the man made his way towards the Rec Hall. Before he could though, he caught himself and smacked his own hand down. What was he doing? He was _not_ a child and he did _not_ need to hold an adult's hand! What had ever possessed him to do that?

Klink stood back, berating himself as the other moved past him. He was not a child, he reminded himself. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed Hogan to protect and take care of him.

He looked over at the crowd of children following Hogan and it reminded him of the story about the Pied Piper of Hamelin. In the story, the Piper had led the children to some magical land. But another version that his older brother once read him said that the Piper had led them to a river to drown. Klink shivered. Would Hogan figuratively do the same thing? No. Hogan would do what he could to get them out of this mess. After all, aside from himself, all the children were Hogan's men. But then again, hadn't there been one little lame boy in the story that had been left behind? Hogan could very well fix his own men, while leaving Klink behind- doomed to wait another lifetime to get back to normal.

Klink shook the thoughts from his mind and hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. He saw Hogan say something to Sergeant Carter, who dashed off. "What did you say to him?" Klink asked as he approached.

"I told him to gather the barracks chiefs that have kids," Hogan explained. Then, without warning, he smacked his forehead and shook his head slightly.

"What is it, Hogan?" Klink asked in concern.

"Nothing. I just hope he realizes I meant kids in camp, not back home."

Klink took a moment to watch Carter across the compound. "He's older," Klink commented after a moment.

"He said he didn't drink much of that stuff," Hogan replied with a shrug. Then he looked down at Klink. "You must've drank a barrel full."

Klink put his hands on his hips and set his jaw firmly as he looked up at Hogan. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Well, no offence, sir, but you're even older than I am and you're just as young as the rest of the guys."

"I was thirsty!" Klink protested, half tempted to hit Hogan with his riding crop. "Besides, I have always been young at heart. Maybe that helped."

Hogan gave him a sceptical look. "Whatever you say, Kommandant. You ready to start this meeting?"

"Age before beauty," Klink sniped as he moved aside for Hogan. Hogan smirked and, as he walked past, ruffled Klink's hair. The nerve! Klink just stood there, fuming. How dare he ruffle a German's hair! He knew Hogan was cheeky, but that was crossing some sort of line. Well, he was just going to have to get him back. Steal his cap or something. He couldn't let this injustice slide. A week in the cooler! A month! A year!

Klink smacked himself. What was he doing? Yes, Hogan was out of line, but that didn't warrant the frenzy Klink was working himself into. He was acting… childish, Klink realized. And now that he thought of it, he had been very childish earlier, when he stuck his tongue out at Hogan. German officers did not stick their tongues out. And he couldn't ignore that he had actually tried to grab Hogan's hand.

The color drained from Klink's face as a cold realization snuck up on him. He was turning into a child. His body was there already. His mind was just taking a bit longer to catch up.


	7. Meeting Mayhem

Children made Hogan nervous. He wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was because they were just so unreasonable. That was it. Children just didn't think like adults- at times, they were downright irrational. And brutally honest. Honesty was all fine and dandy, but not in the spy business. If he wasn't careful, one of these kids might unknowingly spill the beans about the whole operation.

Of course, these weren't actual children, Hogan had to remind himself. They were adults, trapped in children's bodies. And as far as he could tell, they were all thinking on an adult level. With the occasional lapse, Hogan amended as he caught sight of Olsen who was giggling about something. He hoped Olsen's behaviour wasn't the start of a trend, but alarms were starting the ring in the back of his mind.

The noise in the Rec Hall was swelling and Hogan decided it was just about time to get things started. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter come in, followed by a few of the barracks chiefs. Hopefully the right barracks chiefs.

"All right, let's hold it down," Hogan said from the front of the room. The chatter of little voices continued. "Quiet! Hey!" Finally, after several attempts, Hogan whistled loudly. It did the trick and all the noise stopped. For a moment, anyway.

"Say, that was neat! Do it again!" someone cried from the crowd. A few other voices piped up in agreement.

The request, and the giddy tone in which it was given, caught Hogan by surprise. The alarm bells grew louder. Maybe Olsen's little stunt hadn't been an isolated incident. Maybe it was just the beginning of his men's mental deterioration. Great. Just great. So that water didn't just bring physical changes, but mental as well. How long would it take for the two to sync up? "What? No! We're here to-"

"Puh-leeze!" this came from Newkirk, who had dropped to his knees, hands clasped in front of him.

"No! Snap out of it you guys and pay attention!" There were a few soft murmurs of disappointment and even more sheepish looks.

"Sorry, guv. Don't know what came over me," Newkirk apologized. Well, there was one bright spot. They weren't completely gone.

"There's been a lot of that going around, lately. Look, I know this is hard, but you guys have got to keep it together. Got it?" The crowd nodded. "All right. Now, how many of you are there in here. Count off."

In unison, the whole crowd answered. "One!"

"Hey! I'm one!"

"No! I am!"

Several little battles broke out all over the room. Oh brother. Hogan took a moment to look heavenwards, searching for a reason why, of all people, was he the one that got thrown into situations like this. And then, with a deep breath, he went into the fray and started pulling children apart. "Hold it! HOLD IT!"

"Why don't you try whistling again, Colonel?" a barracks chief called from where he was also trying to break two youngsters apart.

Oh for the love of Mike. Hogan rolled his eyes. Well, it was worth a try. He whistled again.

"Hey, I thought you weren't going to do that again!" someone said when the trick worked again and the crowd quieted down.

"And I thought you were all going to pull yourselves together!" Hogan shot back, rather childishly himself. Oh great. He was getting far too caught up in this insanity along with the rest of them. "Now just settle down. Roberts," he said, motioning to a barracks chief. "Get a head count, would you."

"On it." Roberts picked his way through the mop-topped throng as if it were a mine field. "I count forty-two," Roberts reported after a few minutes. "Including Klink."

"Kommandant Klink!" Klink yelled from the corner, pointing his riding crop at Roberts with a scowl.

"Forty-two, including Kommandant Klink," Roberts amended. "I think four are from my barracks," he continued. "They were helping with the-" he cut himself off and shrugged but Hogan knew what he meant. Roberts' men had been in the tunnel when the spring had shot up.

"Right. Okay." Now what? Even if Hogan had an idea on how to fix this problem, which he didn't, his men were in no shape to comprehend it. "Look, until I figure a way to get things back to normal, I need you all to be on your best behaviour." There were a few puzzled looks as if a few of them didn't know what "best behaviour" was. "Meaning," Hogan continued, "you listen to what I or your barracks chief tell you.

"Okay, first thing we need to do is-"

"What about our clothes?" Newkirk interrupted. Quickly, he covered his mouth with his hand. "Sorry!"

Right. Though it wasn't his biggest concern, it was still one that Hogan needed to address. After all, he couldn't just let them all run around in their oversized pyjamas. "With the Kommandant's permission, we'll send Schultz into town."

"For forty-two outfits?" Klink exclaimed from the back. He marched up to Hogan and jabbed his leg with his riding crop. "And how are you going to pay for that? How would I explain that when General Burkhalter looks over my books?"

It was a good point. And a very adult question, Hogan noted with a hint of relief. It struck him as ironic that the person who was keeping himself together best was Klink.

"Don't worry Kommandant, my men and I have money." Klink gave him a suspicious look. "You know, from all those work projects we did outside camp last fall."

"And you saved it all?" Klink scoffed.

"Well, we were planning on spending it on an outing to the local hofbrau, but you declined our request for a weekend pass."

"Hmph. Very well. Give Schultz the money and I will send him to town."

"Happy Newkirk?" Hogan asked.

Newkirk crossed his arms over his chest. "As long as he doesn't bring me any ruddy lederhosen," he grumbled.

"All right, you barracks chiefs get over here," Hogan called to the grown men in the group. They gathered around him. He supposed he should've considered himself lucky that none of the chiefs were children as well. "Everyone just stay quiet for a few minutes while we figure this out," he ordered all the children. A few of them settled on the ground and started to play with their clothes.

Hogan was about to start giving instructions to the chiefs when he felt something push against his leg. He looked down to find Klink trying to squeeze his way into the middle of the huddle. "Klink, what are you doing?"

Klink looked up at Hogan with a petulant expression on his face. "Hogan, I am still Kommandant of this camp. I don't want you to use this meeting as a chance to plan an escape!"

"Believe me, Colonel, an escape is the last thing on my mind." For now, anyway. But if this madness kept up, Hogan wasn't sure he could keep himself from breaking out.

"I still want to be part of this," Klink said firmly.

There was no use in arguing. As Klink had pointed out earlier, he still had the power to throw Hogan into the cooler. "Fine. Here's the plan. I need you all to break the guys into groups and question them. Find out when and how much of that water they drank. Find out how old they were and how old they figure they are now. Maybe we can find some sort of common denominator."

"How's that going to help us get things back to normal?" Roberts asked.

"Beats me," Hogan admitted. "But it might come in handy. Look, I don't know what the hell to do about all this. But if you guys have any ideas, I'd sure like to know about them." It was a very rare thing for Hogan to admit he had no idea what to do, and he never admitted it to any of the men outside his core group. But this was a whole different ball of wax compared to what was usually going on around camp. It was one thing to act in control when some Kraut general made a surprise visit or when a mission to blow something up went wrong. That was easy. But no amount of quick thinking was going to get him out of this mess.

The chiefs shared a look and shrugged. "Okay then. Get to it," Hogan ordered. The group broke up and the chiefs went about their assignment. "Well Kommandant, do you have any ideas?"

"No," Klink sighed. Suddenly he stiffened and paled. "But now that I think of it, I may just have another problem for you to solve."

Hogan knew from his tone that he wasn't going to like whatever Klink said. "What's that?"

"General Burkhalter is coming for an inspection tomorrow."

He was right. He didn't like it at all.


	8. Wounded Pride

Hogan sat at the table in the barrack's common room, going over the chiefs' scribbled notes. Nothing was really matching up, he surmised as he took a sip of his coffee. A thirty year old prisoner had just a glass full and was now in the same state as a twenty year old prisoner who had drank twice as much. The men who had been soaked by the stuff after getting caught in the eruption of water were older than the guys who had just nipped at the water while fixing up a trough.

Hogan dropped his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes. He was getting nowhere with this. And to make matters worse, he was on a schedule. He had to find a way to get everything back to normal before Burkhalter got to camp. Or find a way to stall him.

Draining the last of his coffee, Hogan let out a frustrated side and ran a hand through his hair. This whole situation was going to make him prematurely grey.

"Do you want me to get you some more, mon colonel?" LeBeau asked from beside him as he reached for Hogan's cup.

Hogan, who hadn't realized LeBeau was sitting so close, slid away from him in surprise. There wasn't a lot of room to move though because Olsen was on the other side of him, chin resting in his hands, looking as bored as ever.

"Did you figure anything out Colonel?" Kinch asked from across the table. He was flanked by Goldman and Newkirk, who were practically laying on the tabletop, trying to get a look at the papers.

Hogan shifted awkwardly as the other children in the room moved closer, looking up at him expectantly. There was no reason to be nervous around them, Hogan told himself. They were still his men, trained soldiers and spies, just pint-sized and in overgrown shirts. But Hogan couldn't help but feel like a mouse in a room full of kittens.

"Nothing. Northing they have there makes sense. And LeBeau, stay away from that stove, you'll burn yourself!"

LeBeau was on his tiptoes next to the stove, trying to reach the coffeepot. Hogan's order startled him and he backed away. The look of surprise was quickly replaced with an indignant scowl. "I will not," the Frenchman muttered. "I have been cooking since I was smaller than this."

"I believe you, LeBeau. You just worried- I didn't want you-" Hogan groaned inwardly. He didn't want to offend LeBeau any further. "I don't want anymore coffee, thanks."

"What if I want some?" LeBeau challenged.

Not a good idea. Hogan didn't know a lot about children, but he was sure coffee and children didn't mix. "It'll stunt your growth." That earned him a death glare.

"So what's the plan, Colonel?" Carter asked. He came up behind LeBeau and grabbed the coffee cup out of his hands. LeBeau reached up to grab it back, but Carter ignored him and set it on a shelf.

"I don't have one yet," Hogan sighed. "But I need to come up with one fast. Klink told me Burkhalter is coming for an inspection tomorrow." Not only that, but he was quickly losing his sanity. And the thought of having his men completely regressing into children terrified him. Keeping them away from the stove would be the least of his worries.

"Blimey, that doesn't give us much time, does it? Do you think we can stall him?" Newkirk asked hopefully.

"The question is, how?"

"Why don't we have General Kinchmeyer call him? Make up an excuse to take Burkhalter somewhere else." LeBeau suggested.

"The only problem with that is I don't exactly sound like General Kinchmeyer," Kinch pointed out.

"What about someone else from camp?" Carter suggested. "General Hoganmuller can be just as pushy as General Kinchmeyer."

"It's worth a shot," Hogan agreed. "Kinch, go put the call through."

"Right." Kinch slid off the bench and under the table. He crawled out from underneath a moment later and scampered to his bunk. Standing on the very tips of his toes, he tried to reach the panel that opened the trapdoor. "I can't reach it," he ground out. Hogan slid up behind him and smacked his bunk. The trapdoor opened and with a little effort, Kinch made it over the bed frame and climbed down the ladder.

"Okay, everyone stay up here, I'll be back. Don't get into trouble." He gave LeBeau a pointed look before following Kinch down the ladder.

He heard Newkirk snort. "Treats us like bloody children."

If only that were a joke, Hogan thought ruefully. He hopped down off the ladder and walked up to the radio set. Kinch was already there, standing on a chair and fiddling with wires. Hogan sat patiently on a crate and waited. "You got it, Kinch?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Ummm…"

"Um?" Hogan repeated. Kinch was the last person he expected to give him an answer like that. "What does 'um' mean?"

"Well we can't use the radio," Kinch explained. "We need to tap into Klink's phone line."

"So what's the problem?" Hogan asked. He rose to his feet and watched over Kinch's shoulder as the sergeant rummaged through the mess of wires.

"I just have to remember how to do it," Kinch said. There was a little waver in his voice and tears were building up in the corner of his eyes. "Maybe if I hook this into there. Or maybe-"

"Forget it, Kinch," Hogan sighed.

"No, I can do it!" Kinch argued.

"Just don't worry about it." Kinch ignored him and started tugging on a wire. Hogan grabbed his hand gently and pulled it back. "Some other time, Kinch."

Kinch looked from his little hand wrapped in Hogan's much bigger one, to Hogan and nodded miserably. "Sure, Colonel. Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it," Hogan said softly. Clearing his throat, he adopted a cheerier tone as he strolled back to the ladder. "Besides, I've already got another idea."

"What's that, Colonel?" Kinch asked, following behind him.

"It turns out that Kommandant Klink has an awful cold and he-" he paused and looked down from a few rungs up the ladder at Kinch, who was hesitantly starting his climb up. "You need some help, Kinch?"

"No, I can do it myself," Kinch grumbled.

And take a year doing it, Hogan thought with a grimace. But Kinch's pride was already hurt and to help him would be like rubbing salt in the wound. "Like I was saying, Klink's lost his voice and so he's going to ask Fraulein Hilda to call the General and reschedule."

"You think it will work?" Kinch grunted as he pulled himself up another rung.

"It's got to." When he got to the top, he waited for Kinch. As Kinch neared the top, Hogan silently offered a hand, which Kinch took. As soon as he was over the bunk though, he dropped it and shuffled to a corner. Hogan decided to leave him alone and turned his attention to Carter. "Carter, did you guys bottle any of that water?"

"Sure did, Colonel. We have a stash in the tunnels." There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he continued. "You want a taste?"

"Not funny," Hogan growled. Oh, wouldn't that be peachy. "Look, before I lose you too, I want-"

"Lose me?" Carter repeated.

"Lose your expertise that is," Hogan explained. He heard Kinch snort from the corner. "I need you to get to your lab and examine this stuff."

"Sure thing, Colonel. You don't have to worry about me." Carter grinned as he climbed onto the ladder and gave a little salute. "After all, sir, I've been doing this since I was a-"

"Don't say it, Carter," Hogan ordered. "Just go."

"Sorry, sir. You're right. This is no time to be kid-ding around." And with a laugh, he was gone.

Hogan rolled his eyes and started for the door. "I'll be back," he announced.

"Yes Father," his men sang in a sarcastic chorus.

"Please, don't even joke," Hogan groaned. He made a quick retreat from the barracks and high-tailed it across the compound. As he went, he found two guards posted next to the fountain of water. Klink must've ordered it, Hogan concluded. How… sensible. Klink was on the ball. In fact, with the way he was acting, Klinke stood a better chance of getting promoted to general now than he was yesterday.

Whether that was true or not didn't stop Klink from acting like a general. When Hogan entered the office, he found Klink sitting on Hilda's lap, snuggled up close to her as he chattered on about something. Hilda just listened with an affectionate smile. The sight stopped Hogan in his tracks.

"Kommandant?"

"Oh, hello Hogan," Klink greeted with a sigh of contentment. "You don't have to worry about explaining anything to Fraulein Hilda. Schultz and I told her when she arrived. She's been very sympathetic."

"I see that," Hogan said flatly.

"Oh Colonel Hogan, isn't it terrible. Poor Colonel Klink," Hilda cooed as she stroked Klink's thick black hair. "But isn't he just adorable?"

"Sure." He eyed Hilda curiously. She had never struck him as the maternal type, but he was smart enough to keep that observation to himself. "Listen, Klink, I have an idea on what to do about General Burkhalter."

"Can it wait?"

"No."

"All right, what is it?" Klink asked, tearing his attention away from Hilda to look at Hogan.

"We'll just have Hilda call him up, tell him your sick and reschedule," Hogan explained. "Simple."

"Very," Klink said. There was a disappointed tone in his voice, as if he were expecting something more complicated. "Fraulein Hilda, will you make the call?"

"Of course." Hilda picked up the phone. "General Burkhalter's headquarters' please."

"You're an angel," Klink sighed. Hilda tapped his nose with a smile. Hogan just rolled his eyes. Klink was milking this for all it was worth.

"General Burkhalter? This is Kommandant Klink's secretary… Yes, that one… Why thank-you, Herr General, you're too kind… Yes, I know you are, but Kommandant Klink is very ill and… yes, Herr General. I will tell him… Danke… Oh, General! I'm sure you say that to all the girls… yes, I am too, General. Good-bye."

"What did he say?" Hogan asked when she hung up.

"The General should remember he's a married man," Hilda said coolly.

"Not that. What did he say about the inspection?" Klink asked.

"He said that he will either see you tomorrow or you will have to recover from your illness on the Russian front," Hilda informed them.

Klink scowled and turned a dangerous eye to Hogan. "Simple," he growled. "That's what you said, 'simple'! A simple way to have me transferred!"

"Are you crazy? He wouldn't send you to the Russian front like that."

"I'm not worried about the Russian front!" Klink cried.

"All right, calm down I'll think of something else. Don't worry." Klink just grunted. "Look, I have to get back to my men. Who knows what sort of trouble they've gotten into."

He went to the door and Hilda quickly set Klink of the floor to follow him. "The Kommandant tells me that your men are also children," she said, leaning against the door so Hogan couldn't open it. Hogan nodded. "How is that for you?"

"Oh, I'm doing all right. Not easy on my own though," he said with a dramatic sigh. "Men weren't made to raise kids by themselves. Sure wish I had someone with a feminine touch to help me out." Hilda gave a noncommittal shrug. "You know someone who wants to help me raise forty kids?"

"How about ten?" she countered, wiggling her left ring finger.

Sneaky. There was more to that question. "How 'bout a dog?" Hilda didn't not look too impressed as she moved away from the door arms folded across her chest. Hogan cleared his throat and opened the door. "Gotta go." He quickly slipped out.

"Ten? Not on your life, lady!"


	9. Opinions on Lederhosen and Girls

It's me again. Hope you're having fun! I sure am. I love torturing poor Hogan in absurd ways.

* * *

Just as Kinch had reported yesterday, the tunnels were a mess. Hogan hadn't bothered to notice when he and Kinch had tried tapping into Klink's phone line earlier. But now, on his way to Carter's lab, Hogan could take a few minutes to inspect the damage. All sort of debris littered the passageways all throughout the tunnels. One passageway was completely washed out. Luckily, the most vital parts of the operation were intact: Kinch's radio room, Carter's lab with all of its explosives, and the forgery center with all their fake money and important papers. Newkirk's sewing room was somewhere past the washed out passage en route to the cooler. Hogan could only hope that the room itself and all the German uniforms in there weren't completely destroyed.

And all this because LeBeau had wanted to steal eggs from the kitchen. That's what they got for getting greedy.

"All right, what have you got for me, Carter?" Hogan asked as soon as he entered Carter's lab. He was in no mood to beat around the bush.

Carter, who was peering intently at the contents of a test tube, looked up at Hogan in surprise. "Oh, hey, Colonel. I didn't hear you coming. Here's the water, sir."

"Did you analyze it?" Hogan asked as he came up to Carter's work bench. It looked like something that popped out of a bad horror flick; all sorts of flasks and tubes were bubbling away on Bunsen burners. And Carter, wearing an oversized lab coat and gloves, looked every bit the mad scientist. Or, rather, the mad scientist's younger brother.

"Sure did, Colonel. You know what this is?"

"What?" Hogan asked, somewhat impatiently.

"It's water!"

"What?" Hogan cried, this time in astonishment. "Water? Carter, that's not water! Water does not turn grown men into children." Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head slightly. "I waited too long. I should've had you analyze that stuff before you became too much of a kid. I should've-"

"Hey wait a minute sir," Carter interrupted, sounding a little miffed. "I told you I've been doing this since I was a kid, maybe not as well or as much as now, or yesterday I guess because yesterday I was my good, old, normal self, but I know what I'm doing and believe you me, there's nothing wrong with my findings! This is water! I've ran every test I could on it. It's good, old fashioned H-two-O!"

"But it can't be," Hogan argued. "If it's just water, then it wouldn't be sweet and it wouldn't do what it does!"

Carter sighed and shrugged. "Gosh, sir, I don't know what to tell you. But it's water. I promise." He crossed his fingers over his heart. "Maybe there's just no scientific explanation. Maybe it's just… magic or something."

Hogan gave him a pointed look. "Magic? Come on Carter. Aren't you a little old to- never mind." With a defeated sigh, Hogan took the test tube from Carter and held it up to the light. "Just water, huh?"

"Yup."

"Run the tests again. There's gotta be more to it." He handed the tube back to Carter.

Carter scrunched his nose. "Yes sir," he grumbled. He set the tube on a rack. Then, he reached for something on his desk and popped it into his mouth. "Jellybean, sir? Maybe it'll help you cheer up, because, boy, are you grumpy." He quickly covered his mouth, eyes wide. "I mean…"

Hogan waited for him to continue with an apology, but Carter just shrugged and ducked away. "Yeah, I am grumpy. But I think I have every right to be. Don't you? Forty guys in my command are barely out of kindergarten!"

Carter didn't look very impressed at Hogan's play for sympathy. "I've got four little sisters, Colonel," Carter muttered. "They're always trying to get us to play dolls with them, always getting us in trouble with Mom, acting like a few frogs in their bed is a capital offence, and they're the ones who are always making us late for church, not me and Jack. We just get tired of waiting and wander off and then Dad makes us do extra chores and-" Carter suddenly stopped. "Well, anyway, sir, I'd take forty boys over them any day if I were you, Colonel."

Hogan just grunted and cast a glance at the bag of jellybeans Carter had on the desk. "Where'd you get those anyway?" he asked, changing the subject. He was a little unnerved by Carter's rant, which had sounded more like present grievances against his sisters rather than past. "We haven't gotten any Red Cross packages in over two months. Besides, we're supposed to use them to bribe Schultz."

"Schultz doesn't like the black ones," Carter pointed out. "And neither do any of the guys. I don't know why; they're the best ones, I think." He grabbed a few and flicked one into his mouth. "So they gave 'em all to me. I didn't even have to trade any cigarettes or anything like that. I don't have that many left though. I was eating them like crazy yesterday while I was helping clear out the tunnels, for a little extra energy, you know, and I was down here all day. It sure is a mess, Colonel. I don't know how long it's going to take us to clear in out, especially now that we're all kids. Say, Colonel, do you think that, if we can't come up with a way to change ourselves back, that the Krauts will send us back home? Or would they transfer us to an orphanage? Or maybe they'd make a special Stalag for us. Stalag 0.5! Or-"

"Carter," Hogan groaned. The sergeant was more chatty than ever and it was giving him a headache.

"Yeah, Colonel?"

"Just let me know when you find something else in that water other than 'H' and 'O', okay."

Carter shrugged. "All right. But like I said, I ran every test I could and it's not like I grabbed the wrong water- this is the stuff all right. It's water. But I'll do what I can. I'll stay here all day if I have to."

"Just be up in time for roll call." Hogan turned to leave but stopped and quickly snatched Carter's bag of jellybeans. The last thing he needed was for Carter to get hopped up on sugar while playing with fire and chemicals.

"Hey!"

"Don't worry, Carter, they're safe with me. I don't like the black ones either." And with that, Hogan left the lab and headed back to the barracks above.

The trapdoor had just closed when Schultz burst into the barracks, his arms loaded with packages. All the men, who had been loafing around the common room, looking despondent and bored, immediately perked up. Even Hogan felt a little twinge of relief. At least now, his men couldn't be constantly tripping over their clothes.

"Schultz is back!" Newkirk exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Bout bloody time! I'm going round the bend wearing this shirt!" He tugged on his shirt in distaste. "Might as well have been fitted to me by a German tailor!"

Schultz clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Newkirk, such a naughty thing to say. The clothes I brought you were made by a German and I think it will fit you just fine."

Newkirk didn't look convinced but went up to Schultz away and started pawing at him. "You didn't bring me lederhosen, did you? I don't want to look like a ruddy Kraut ragamuffin. "

"Lederhosen will not make you look like a ragamuffin or any muffin!" Schultz said indignantly.

When it looked like Newkirk was going to continue their inane argument, Hogan decided to intervene. He grabbed Newkirk and tucked him under his arm. "Enough of that. Can we get on with this Schultz? These guys are wearing holes into their clothes from tripping over them."

"Right!" Schultz spilled the packages onto the table while muttering something about muffins under his breath. Everyone gathered around and waited restlessly while Schultz untied all the packages.

"I wanna see!" Newkirk shouted, trying to free himself. "Is it lederhosen? I don't _want_ lederhosen!"

"Would you knock it off with the lederhosen, already?" Hogan cried, exasperated by Newkirk's irrational aversion to the breeches.

"Yeah, Newkirk, knock it off already!" Olsen echoed from the other side of the table. He stuck his tongue out at Newkirk and glanced up at Hogan as if expecting some sort of praise.

Hogan just gave Schultz a pathetic and pleading look. "How would your wife feel about you taking some kids home, Schultz? You've already got five, what's two or three or ten more?"

"Colonel Hogan, it is true I have five children, but-" he was cut off as two of the boys started fighting over the outfits Schultz had just given them. Hogan practically dropped Newkirk to break them up. What were they fighting over anyway? The color of their shirts from the sound of it. Oh brother!

"But what, Schultz? Really, I'll give you as many as you want! No charge! Ow! Hey, no hitting the colonel!" These two were going to be on KP for a month when they returned to normal. If they returned to normal.

"But," Schultz continued as he handed Newkirk an outfit that was devoid of anything close to resembling lederhosen, "they are all girls. And if you ask me, it would take a thousand girls to cause as much trouble as one boy!"

* * *

Carter's my mouthpiece again. I love black jellybeans. Best thing since sliced bread.


	10. Don't Forget Fate

Colonel Klink cheered wildly as the room spun around him at a dizzying speed. For the last twenty minutes, he had been spinning in his chair behind his desk. He had attempted to do some paperwork but after five minutes, it had become almost unintelligible to him and so he had to find other ways of occupying his time.

His chair finally came to a slow stop and he was just about to start another spin when the door opened.

"Colonel Klink, I have brought your dinner!"

Klink just looked up at the large man, a mixture of fear and confusion sweeping through him. Who was this man? He looked somewhat familiar, but Klink couldn't quite put his finger on it. Suddenly, it occurred to Klink that he didn't really know where he was. Some sort of office. He looked around, trying to figure out why he was there. The man in front of him was in uniform… a guard… a soldier… a sergeant… Schultz!

Klink let out a sigh of relief. The man was Sergeant Schultz, and he was Colonel Klink, Kommandant of Stalag 13. He remembered now.

"Kommandant Klink, are you all right?" Schultz asked as he set Klink's dinner on his desk and knelt down beside him. "Kommandant?"

Klink drew a shaky breath and shook his head. "Get Hogan." When Schultz didn't immediately move, Klink repeated his demand.

"Jawohl, Kommandant." Schultz got up and, after a quick salute, ran out of the office.

What was happening? Klink grabbed himself as his body started to tremble. He knew the answer to his question. He was starting to forget. His memories were retreating to childhood. Things that had happened forty five years ago were now in the forefront of his mind. He could remember his kindergarten teacher clear as day, while all memories of Schultz were fading into the distance.

Panic swallowed him up and Klink frantically dove under his desk, trying to somehow hide from what was happening. "You're Kommandant Klink of Stalag 13," Klink said to himself as hot tears streamed down his face. "You run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany! Pull yourself together, there's a war going on!"

Even as he repeated his own words to himself, he knew it was hopeless. It was only a matter of time before he forgot everything. He couldn't let that happen. Somehow he had to retain a basic knowledge of his situation. He didn't have to remember the exact day, or what he had for breakfast the other morning, or even how to play the violin. He just had to hold onto his memory of Stalag 13 and his job as kommandant and… Hogan. Yes, he had to remember Hogan. Hogan was the only one who could get him out of this mess, he was sure of it.

"Colonel?" And there he was. Klink let out a loud sob, but made no attempt to leave the safety of his hiding place. After a moment, Hogan's feet stepped into Klink's view and then the rest of Hogan as he crouched down. "Colonel Klink?" He kept speaking, but Klink couldn't understand anything he was saying. Why not? Why wasn't Hogan making sense? This was no time to be joking! This was no time to… speak English.

Klink's eyes widened with horror. He had forgotten how to speak English. This was bad. Very bad. What was he supposed to do now? "Stop!" Klink cried in German. "Stop, I don't understand you!"

Hogan blinked in surprise. For a moment, it looked like he was having an inner debate before he started speaking again. "It's all right. Stop crying. Everything's going to be all right."

The soothing words, spoken in German, almost had the opposite effect as Klink found himself wanting to cry with overwhelming relief. Hogan spoke German! "Oh Hogan!" Klink wailed as he buried his face into his knees. He could hear Hogan curse under his breath and a moment later, he felt Hogan grab him and carefully pull him out from under the desk. Klink clutched onto his jacket and held him tightly. Hogan seemed to tense, but patted his back reassuringly.

Finally, Klink pulled himself together and practically pushed himself away from Hogan. Hogan set him on the ground and Klink took a moment to straighten his new clothes. He cleared his throat and dried his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself before he continued. "I didn't know you spoke German, Hogan."

Hogan just shrugged. "What's wrong, Klink?" he asked, his tone of voice all business. Strangely, it was exactly what Klink needed. He needed Hogan to talk to him on an adult level. It helped him remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"Isn't it obvious? I don't understand English! I had to remind myself who Schultz was! I'm losing my mind! I'm forgetting everything except my childhood memories! Hogan, what are we going to do?"

Hogan pushed his cap off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "The same thing is starting to happen to my men too. LeBeau is barely making any sense any more. But, Colonel, I don't know what to do. I don't even know if there's a way to return you guys to normal."

It wasn't what Klink wanted to hear. And he especially didn't want to hear it from Hogan. Hogan was supposed to be able to fix any problem. How many times had he kept him off the Russian front? How many times had he saved him from Frau Linkmeyer? "Hogan, you have to think of something! Anything!"

"I'm working on it, Klink. But there just might not be anything I can do about it."

Klink slumped in defeat. "I don't want to be a child," he sighed after a moment. "I didn't like being a child the first time around. And with everything going on now-" he glanced quickly at the portrait of the fuehrer by his desk- "what a horrible time to be young."

"I don't know about that. This just might be the perfect time to have a shell of youthful ignorance." There was a pause before Hogan cleared his throat. "Jellybean?" he offered as he pulled a small bag from out of his pocket and knelt down to Klink's level.

"Jellybean? How can you think of food at a time like this?"

Hogan shrugged. "Might cheer you up."

Klink gave him a doubtful look, but took a handful anyway. "Thank-you." He noticed that Hogan hadn't looked up from the jellybeans in his hand. "Is something wrong, Hogan?"

"Jellybeans," Hogan whispered. "That's crazy though. Impossible."

"What's impossible, Hogan, what?" Klink eyed the jellybeans suspiciously.

"I was just thinking, Carter was munching on these yesterday… Maybe they have something to do with the fact he's not as young as everyone else."

Klink gave Hogan a sceptical look. "That is crazy." He put a hand to Hogan's forehead. "I think you're a little warm. Say 'ah'."

"Some other time, Klink. I've gotta go."

"But wait!" Klink cried when Hogan got up to leave. Hogan paused and looked back at him expectantly. He couldn't let Hogan just leave him. Who was going to tuck him in? No- he didn't need to be tucked in, Klink berated himself. But he didn't want to be left on his own in any case. Being around Hogan would help him remember who and what he was. Left to his own, he might forget to remind himself of what was going on. He supposed he could get Schultz to stay with him, but it wouldn't be the same. Schultz was Schultz and Hogan was… well, Hogan.

Klink fumbled with his words as he continued. "I can't stay by myself. I'll forget."

With a sigh, Hogan crossed his arms over his chest and grabbed his elbows. "Get Schultz to stay with you."

"But Schultz… Schultz won't…" He gave up trying to explain feelings he didn't even understand. He just didn't want Schultz.

"Klink, what's General Burkhalter going to say when he finds out you spent the night sleeping with your prisoners?"

"The same thing he'll say when he finds out I'm a child, I suppose. Besides, I don't have to go to your barracks; you can stay here," Klink suggested hopefully.

Hogan shook his head. "I'm not going to leave my men by themselves."

"But there are plenty of men in camp that can watch your barracks for the night." Klink's tone of voice became desperate.

Hogan muttered something in English. "Klink, it's not going to work. I can't-"

Klink clasped his hands together under his chins and opened his eyes real wide, allowing them to water up with tears. "Please!" Hogan tried to look away, again muttering in English. Klink dropped onto his knees. "Please!"

"Klink, you're embarrassing yourself." Klink didn't care and so he didn't let up on his attack. "Oh all right! Stop looking at me like that!"

Obediently, Klink put on a less threatening expression. If he had known Hogan had been such a push-over for a pathetic face, he would've tried it a long time ago. For what, he wasn't sure, but it was useful information nonetheless.

"All right, eat your dinner. Can you find your way to my barracks?"

Klink shot him a dirty look. "Of course I can! What do you take me for?"

"Don't tempt me with questions like that, Kommandant." Hogan looked back down at his bag of jellybeans. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've gotta see a man about some candy."

"Hogan?" Klink said before Hogan could leave. "Do you really expect me to believe those are magic beans?"

"Why not? I expected you to believe the water was from the fountain of youth. And look how right I was with that."

Klink couldn't argue with that. "Sometimes, Hogan, I think you say things and Fate just decided to plays along."

Hogan looked down at the jellybeans and then upwards. "From your lips to Fate's ears, Klink."


	11. The Kid's Plan

Hogan clutched the bag of jellybeans protectively, as if his very life depended upon its safety. Well, maybe his life didn't depend upon it, but his sanity certainly did. It was crazy and impossible and downright silly that this could solve his problem. But then again, Hogan mused, the problem itself was crazy and impossible and downright silly.

He paused just outside his barracks, hand resting on the door as he looked down at the brown bag. Did he waste time having Carter analyze it? No, they were just jellybeans for Pete sakes. Just like the 'water' had just been water. A frustrated growl rumbled in his throat. When this was all over, he was going to send all the water he could to London- maybe they could find something Carter couldn't.

No, he wasn't going to waste time with Carter. He was just going to give the bag to one of his men and have them dive in. But which one? Hogan quickly weighed his options. He wasn't too worried about Carter, who was already half-way normal. And though Olsen and Newkirk were wearing on his nerves a little, they could wait too. LeBeau, however, was quickly forgetting his English and that could lead to problems. Hogan waved that worry aside; there were plenty of French speakers in camp that could help out.

Hogan looked back down at the bag. If this crazy idea did solve his problems, he would need to get his hands on more jellybeans which would require a drop from London. Which would require a call to London. Which would require his radioman.

Kinch it was.

Hogan felt a small weight lift from his shoulders. Radio expertise aside, he could really use Kinch's calm, level-headed support to keep him sane.

Unfortunately, this five-year-old version of Kinch wasn't quite as logical and level-headed as the one Hogan was use to.

"I don't like the black ones," Kinch grumbled as Hogan tried for the third time to talk some sense into him. It was like beating his head into a brick wall. Kinch sat on the edge of his bunk, arms folded across his chest, jaw set and eyes defiant.

"You don't like being a kid either, do you?" Hogan countered. For a brief moment, confusion played across Kinch's features before being replaced with suspicion. Hogan was half-tempted to just shove the candy down Kinch's throat. "Look, I'm you're commanding officer and I'm ordering you to eat this bag of candy, got it?"

Kinch let out a contemptuous snort. "Don't gotta do nothing," he muttered.

Hogan sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Kinch." He rested a hand on Kinch's shoulder, causing Kinch to tense. There was a mountain of distrust in the boy's eyes. "Kinch, pull yourself together. I need you."

The softness of his tone seemed to crack the hard shell around Kinch. The boy studied him intently, as if honestly trying to figure out why he should trust him. Finally, Kinch's body sagged with relief and he let out a long sigh. "Colonel."

"Yeah. You okay?"

"It took me a minute," Kinch said softly. "Forgot who you were."

"You're not the only one. Sure you're okay? You remember now?" Kinch nodded. "Good. Now eat the damn candy."

Kinch groaned but took the bag from Hogan. He squeezed his eyes shut and popped a handful into his mouth. "Yuck."

"Good boy. The whole bag now."

Kinch looked wounded at the order, but obediently grabbed another handful. Hogan clapped him on the knee and gave him a small smile.

"Hey, why does he get dessert?" Olsen asked from the table where he and the rest of the children were eating their dinner.

"It's not dessert, it's medicine," Hogan said calmly.

"Looks like jellybeans," Olsen argued.

"Well they aren't."

Olsen looked from Hogan to Kinch, who was making horrible faces, and shrugged. "Okay," he said before turning back to his soup.

Well that was easy. None of the other children questioned Kinch's medicine, too intent on eating their food as loudly as they could. Hogan tensed as the sounds of slurping grated against his nerves. But he wasn't about to start a potential war over getting them to eat civilly. Instead, he marched into his room and shut the door firmly behind him.

Once in the quiet of his room, Hogan began to pace. The whole jellybean idea had better pay off, Hogan groused to himself. If it didn't he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. Either way, he would have to wait until morning to find out so there was no use worrying about it now. There were problems he had to deal with at the moment. Like how he was going to deal with General Burkhalter.

There was no time to wait for Kinch to get back to normal. Even if his radioman was good to go in the morning, it would be too late for General Kinchmeyer to do anything.

They could always contact the underground and have them come up with something. Nope, that was out too. Hogan wasn't sure the radio was even working after Kinch had fiddled with it earlier. And if they waited until morning, the underground might not be able to pull anything together.

No radio meant no contacting London for an air raid either.

Hogan grunted in frustration. He was so use to having so many resources at his disposal. Now he had very few. Hell, he couldn't even use the most important part of his operation- his men.

He had other men, sure, but none of them had the qualifications or experience of his core team. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter were the best at what they did. They weren't easily replaced. But they were all out of commission now so there was no use griping- it wouldn't help him think of a solution.

Hogan stopped mid-step as a thought struck him. So far, all he could think about were the things he couldn't do with this situation. But there had to be some advantages to having a bunch of kids around.

Grabbing his elbows, Hogan rocked on his heels for a moment before continuing his pacing around the room. Maybe he could somehow distract Burkhlater using a few of the kids outside camp. Maybe…

No. It was too dangerous, wasn't it. What if he sent them out and they completely forgot what they were doing? The Gestapo would have no qualms about executing a bunch of kids, he was sure. But then again, who would ever suspect a bunch of kids in the middle of Germany as being Allied spies?

A knock at his door shook him from his thoughts. The door opened slightly as Carter poked his head into the room. "Colonel?"

"Yeah?"

"Schultz just brought Colonel Klink here," Carter reported.

Hogan sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I'll be right out."

"You okay, Colonel?" Carter asked. "You look tired."

"I'm okay. Just past my bedtime," Hogan replied. "Come on, let's get Klink settled."

"Settled?" Carter repeated, a horrified look crossing his face. "You mean, he's spending the night?"

"Yeah. Look, don't ask. It wasn't really my idea."

Carter gave him an incredulous look. "Whose idea was it then?"

"Klink's."

"Klink's? You mean you let Kommandant _Klink_ talk you into this?"

"I said don't ask," Hogan groaned. How exactly had Klink talked him into this anyway? Hogan shrugged. If anyone asked, he would just tell them the Kommandant had threatened him with life in the cooler. That sounded a whole lot better than saying Klink and his big eyes had Hogan wrapped around his little finger.

"Colonel Hogan," Schultz greeted with a salute when Hogan came into the common room. "Escorting Kommandant Klink to your hut as ordered."

"Fine, fine, Schultz," Hogan acknowledged with a lazy salute.

"Well, goodnight, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said as he moved to leave. He paused at the door and gave Hogan a little grin. "And good luck."

"Thanks a lot, Schultz," Hogan grumbled. He looked down at Klink who looked back expectantly. The Kommandant was clad in an oversized pyjama shirt and clutched a pillow and blanket in his hands.

"Blimey, wots he doing here with all that?" Newkirk asked suspiciously as he slid off the bench and ambled up to Klink. Klink took a small step closer to Hogan, watching Newkirk warily. "He spending the night?"

Hogan nodded and put a hand on Klink's shoulder. He quickly took it off and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah he is."

Newkirk looked like someone had smacked him. "You're barmy! Letting him stay here with us? He's the bleedin' Kommandant!"

"All right, all right, hold up!" Hogan hollered when Newkirk's statement caused the other men to kick up a ruckus of complaint. "Yes, the Kommandant is staying the night. Hopefully it'll help him remember what's going on around here." His explanation was met with a roomful of incredulous looks. "Look fellas, we have more important things to worry about right now."

"Like what?" Newkirk challenged.

"Like what we're going to do about General Burkhalter in the morning."

"Still haven't come up with anything, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"No. And there's no way we can let him see you all like this. Do you realize what the Krauts would do if they get a hold of this water?" There were some frightening possibilities to be considered.

"That's true," Kinch said from his bunk. "But what makes you think Klink and the guards aren't going to tell Burkhalter about the water anyway?"

"I'm pretty sure I can convince Klink to keep quiet," Hogan said with a shrug.

Newkirk snorted. "Couldn't even convince him to stay in his own quarters tonight."

Hogan shot Newkirk a pointed look. "All right, Newkirk, I'm not thrilled about it either, but it's not the end of the world. And I don't need you fighting me over it either."

"Yeah, lighten up, Newkirk," Olsen scolded.

"Nor do I need help from the peanut gallery, Olsen." Olsen pouted and looked down at his soup. Ah geez, now he felt like a heel. Since when did he develop such a guilty conscience?

"Colonel Hogan," Klink finally said, tugging on Hogan's pant leg. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," Hogan replied in German. "Just trying to figure out what we're going to do about General Burkhalter."

"He can't see me like this!" Klink exclaimed.

"Well he will if we don't think of anything." He looked back at his men. "All right, I need ideas."

There was a moment of silence before Carter perked up. "Say, why don't we just blow up the road leading to Stalag 13! I've got some nice sticks of dynamite down in the tunnel."

"Which you aren't allowed to use until you're back to normal," Hogan shot back. "Besides, that just might make Burkhalter or the Gestapo suspicious."

"Mon colonel," LeBeau piped up. "I… j'ai… " The little corporal scrunched up his face as if trying to figure out how to say what he wanted. Finally he sighed and stood up at his place on the bench. Puffing out his cheeks he moved his arm out over his stomach and then pointed to himself.

"You're General Burkhalter," Hogan guessed. LeBeau nodded and then pointed down to his soup. He took a sip of it and then clutched his throat before hopping off the bench. He twirled and spun about for a moment or so, making gagging noises before dramatically collapsing to the floor. He writhed about and then stilled, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

Hogan bit back a laugh. "Very theatrical, but we're not poisoning Burkhalter." LeBeau opened one eye and looked up at Hogan. "No, LeBeau. Non!" LeBeau scowled and picked himself off the ground, muttering to himself in French. "Look, we'd have to get him into camp to poison him anyway," Hogan explained, trying to make amends. "Besides, we can't just kill him. He's a pain, but what if we got stuck with someone even worse?"

LeBeau apparently didn't understand and continued to pout. Hogan sighed. "Any other ideas?" He was getting a headache.

"I know!" Carter exclaimed. "Why don't we give Burkhalter a glass of the water and have him turn into a kid too!"

"No!" Hogan cried abruptly. No way, no how! It was one thing to deal with kiddie Klink and his men, it was another to deal with a kiddie Burkhalter. "Besides, we don't want Burkhalter to find out about the water."

"Well why don't we…" Carter started but trailed off.

"Why don't we what?" Hogan prodded.

"It's silly," Carter admitted with a shrug, looking down at his feet and kicking an imaginary rock.

"Let's have it."

"Well, I remember when my cousin Tommy and me set up a lemonade stand last… in the summer… once. We set up on a main road and a bunch of people came. See, I was visiting him in the big city and it was sure hot and… well, why don't we do that? Set up a stand and drug Burkhalter's drink? Just knock him out for a while or something…"

"A lemonade stand's a little too American, don't you think?"

"I told you it was silly," Carter sighed.

"Yeah…" Hogan grabbed his chin and started to pace. "But it just might work. With a little modification."

"Really?"

"Really. The trick would be getting Burkhalter to stop at it."

"Just need to right incentive," Kinch said. He swiped his arm in front of him. "'Support General Kinchmeyer's much adored children. Fresh lemonade. Five cents. Cooled to perfection with thoughts of the Russian Front.'"

Hogan snorted. He really was going insane because he was seriously considering the whole scenario. He just had to find a way to make it work.


	12. Operation Bedtime

Must be feeling better- two updates in two days! Hee! Our poor Colonel Hogan is probanly looking forward to catching a few zzzz's by now.

* * *

Operation Bedtime. It would be executed with precision, speed and skill. In fact, it would probably go down as one of the greatest military feats of WWII.

"Everyone in their pyjamas?" Hogan asked the children in hut two.

"Yes sir," they chorused back, offering a few salutes.

"Everyone's brushed their teeth?"

"Yes sir."

"Washed their faces?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Good, now climb into bed and go to sleep. I'll see you all in the morning. We've got a big day ahead of us."

There, simple. Now he could finally get some rest. Operation Bedtime was a success.

Of course it could never be that easy.

"Where's he going to sleep?" Newkirk demanded, pointing a finger at Klink.

Hogan groaned. He hadn't quite thought that far into Operation Bedtime. "He'll have to bunk with one of you," Hogan said evenly, bracing himself for the outburst of indignation.

"One of us!"

"Well, look at it this way: whoever shares with him gets to share his nice, big, thick blanket too."

Newkirk seemed to consider that for a second. "All right. I'll share with him." Apparently the idea of being warm for a night trumped Newkirk's immense dislike for Klink. Of course, Hogan wouldn't be surprised if in the morning Klink was knocked out on the ground and Newkirk and the blanket were alone in his bunk. Hogan sighed. That wouldn't be good.

"Forget it. He can sleep on my bottom bunk. Now into bed with all of you."

Newkirk rolled his eyes but climbed up onto his bunk without further complaint.

"Come on, Klink," Hogan sighed. This was going to be a long night. He could only imagine how annoying Klink was when he was sleeping. Knowing Klink, he was probably a bed-wetter as a kid too.

"Can I sleep on your bottom bunk too?" Olsen asked, coming up behind Hogan. "My bunk's too high."

"Well if you're asleep then it won't matter how high up you are," Hogan reasoned. Olsen was not convinced.

"But what if I roll off and fall?"

"You won't roll off," Hogan assured him.

"Please. I don't even mind sharing with Klink."

Hogan could almost feel Olsen's eyes widen and he refused to look down. Drat. Somehow they had caught on to his weakness. Now they'd use it to walk all over him.

"No, Olsen, you just-" And then he looked. Olsen just looked so pathetic with his eyes watering up with tears, his bottom lip quivering slightly. "Oh all right! As long as you don't mind sharing with Klink it's fine by me! Now come on, both of you." Hogan let out a frustrated grunt and marched into him room, Klink and Olsen trailing behind him.

"All right, in you go," Hogan ordered as he motioned the two children to his bunk. They both climbed in obediently. "Good night," Hogan grumbled. Quickly he turned out his lamp and climbed up to his top bunk. He patience was at an end. He just wanted to go to sleep and put this day behind him.

"You're not going to tuck us in?" Olsen asked quietly after a moment of silence.

"No."

"Okay… night." Hogan ignored him. He just needed sleep. Goodness, how did real parents do this day in and day out?

"Sleep tight." Olsen continued. There was another pause. "Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"Good night, Olsen!"

"Night," Olsen squeaked.

Silence filled the room and Hogan shifted in his bunk to get comfortable. His body had finally relaxed when another voice came from below.

"Hogan?"

"What Klink?" Hogan mumbled in German.

"Aren't you going to tuck us in?"

Hogan groaned and buried his head under his pillow. "No! Now go to sleep!"

"Okay… good night… Don't let the monsters come out and eat you!"

"Don't worry," Hogan grumbled. "Any monsters come out, I have two kids I can use to distract them."

There was finally silence from the bottom bunk and Hogan took a moment to soak in the peace. "Good night," he muttered to the ceiling. He was just about to fall asleep when he heard the door creak open.

Sitting up and squinting in the dark, he saw two little forms in the doorway. "What? Who?"

"We're scared in there," a little voice said. Goldman, Hogan guessed. "There's all these noises. Can we sleep in here?"

"Bottom bunk," Hogan ordered, laying back down.

He heard the two of them patter across the room and felt the bed shake as they jumped into the bottom bunk. Olsen and Klink both muttered their protests but otherwise didn't put up much of a fuss.

"Good night Colonel Hogan," Goldman called.

Oh no, not all this again. "Good night already. Don't worry about bedbugs or monsters."

"I won't… but did you check under the bed for the boogeyman?"

"Yeah, he's not there. Now go to sleep."

Any quiet that followed wasn't to last because the door opened again. "Colonel Hogan?" It was Newkirk.

"You scared too?" Hogan asked, not bothering to look up.

"Me? I'm not scared. Just wondered where everyone else went. Thought I would join 'em. Your bunk must be comfier than ours anyway. You are an officer after all. Move over you lot. Make room, make room!"

Hogan completely gave up on the idea of any peace and rest when the door opened a few more times. Finally, all his men, with the exception of Carter who had been out like a light earlier, were in his room, trying to squeeze themselves onto the bottom bunk.

"Oi! You're squishing me!"

"Get your foot out of my face!"

"Cochon!"

"Your feet are freezing!"

"Colonel Hogan, can some of us come up there with you?"

All right, he had to step in and put an end to this right now. Hogan jumped off his bunk and stood over the children with his arms crossed over his chest and a firm look on his face. "No. Now all of you up and back into your own beds, right now."

None of them moved. "Sorry, Colonel. We didn't mean to fuss," Newkirk finally said. "We'll be good." To prove his point, Newkirk closed his eyes and started to snore.

"Nothing doing. Bed, all of you."

"All right," Goldman pouted. "But can you at least tell us a story first?"

"Yes! A story! Puh-lease, Colonel Hogan?"

He was outnumbered. Fourteen pairs of eyes against little old, weak-willed, sucker of a colonel him. "One story," Hogan conceded. "Then bed! I mean it!"

Of course, Hogan didn't know any stories to tell. Flipping on his lamp, Hogan searched through his bookshelves for something to read to them. He took down a magazine and flipped through it. Nope. They definitely wouldn't appreciate that one. How about Popular Mechanics? How'd he even gotten that anyway? He flipped through it. 'How to wrap a bear for mailing'? Oh yeah, that would come in handy. He shelved it. What else did he have?

The Army Officer's Guide. Now there was some fine reading. Or a weapon's manual. How come that one hadn't been confiscated? Hogan shrugged and pulled it off the shelf. "Let's see." Maybe if he spoke in a very interesting voice, they would buy it. "Field stripping, cleaning and routine maintenance of Garand rifles. Section 22!" he began as he paced in front of the bunk. "Repeated disassembly and assembly causes excessive wear of parts and will eventually reduce the accuracy of the weapon. See figure 57. Oh look, pictures and everything." Hogan crouched down and held the book out for the kids to see. Only Klink and LeBeau bothered to look, both genuinely interested only because they couldn't understand what he was saying. The other children didn't seem pleased.

"What is this!" Kinch demanded.

"This is the worst story I've ever heard," Goldman shouted indignantly.

"Boo!" Newkirk yelled.

"All right, all right." Hogan tossed the book onto his desk. "So that did stink. But I don't know how to tell a good bedtime story."

"Well, tell us about when you were a kid," Olsen suggested.

"Only seems fair," Kinch agreed with a shrug.

Hogan rolled his eyes. How did he get roped into this? "All right, I'll see what I can come up with. But I warn you, I was a very boring child." His men just gave him sceptical looks.

"All right mates, clear out, let Colonel Hogan in." Newkirk shoved a few of his bed mates to the edge of the bed. "Don't look at me like that. Go onto the top bunk." There was a bit of grumbling, but half the children slipped out of the bottom bunk and climbed up top. "There you go Colonel. Plenty of room down here."

"Thanks, Newkirk," Hogan ground out as he looked up at his top bunk. He had a bad feeling he wouldn't be sleeping up there tonight. In fact, he had a feeling that if he really wanted to get some rest, he would have to wait until all the kids were asleep in his room and sneak out into the common room.

Hogan climbed into the bottom bunk and settled in between Klink and Olsen. Newkirk slid up beside Klink and practically pushed him over until the Kommandant was in Hogan's lap. "Ready, sir," Newkirk announced as he curled under Klink's blanket. Klink scowled and pulled it away from him. The two fought for a moment until Hogan grabbed the blanket and laid it across all of them. Then LeBeau settled on top of it, on Hogan's knees. Hogan shifted uncomfortably under him, but didn't have much room as the other children pressed closer. Oh yeah, this was just dandy.

"All right, let's see, a story from when I was a kid, huh?" Leaning his head back against the wall, Hogan looked up at the top bunk, trying to search his memories for a good one. "Well, I remember one time, my brother-"

"I didn't know you had a brother," Kinch interrupted from the top bunk. Hogan craned his neck to the side and found all the children up top peering over the side of the bunk.

"Well I did, okay."

"What's his name?" Olsen asked.

"William. Willie, actually."

Klink shifted in his lap and looked up. "Willie?"

"Not you. My brother. His name was Willie," Hogan explained in German.

"Interesting."

"Yeah, anyway," Hogan continued in English, "so one Christmas me and my brother Willie and our friend Heinie Zimmerman got bicycles for Christmas. It was a really big deal for us. Not many kids had 'em. Of course, you can't ride 'em in five feet of snow- although we tried a few times- so we had to wait for summer to really use them.

"Usually we would spend all summer playing baseball, but that summer we just went all over town on those things. We'd come home real late sometimes and Mom would be worried and Dad would threaten to hide the front wheels if we worried her like that again.

"Anyway," Hogan continued, "so one day we rode to this new area of town. They were going to build houses there or something. Anyway, we get there and there's this big pile of explosives. Willie wanted to go but Heinie picked up a rock and threw it at the pile." Beside him, Newkirk and Olsen tensed. "Don't worry, nothing happened. So Henie threw another rock. Then I did. Nothing. Not a thing. So we got a little closer. And Heinie started poking at the pile with a stick. Still nothing. Must've been duds, we figured. But we all decided to see if we could get it to blow. Eventually we were riding our bicycles over the pile. Still nothing.

"Finally we got bored of it. We really tried everything to get it to blow. So we get on our bikes to go and just as we're leaving, I scoop up and rock and just toss it over my shoulder. All of a sudden- BOOM!"

All the children jumped and Klink and LeBeau let out cries of surprise. "Did it go off? Did you die?" Olsen asked, his voice filled with worry.

"No, we were fine. But it did go off."

"How are you so lucky?" Kinch cried from above. "You should've been blown to bits long before that."

Hogan shrugged. "Fate was on my side, I guess. Anyway, so we high-tailed it out of there. Then Willie said we ought to find a policeman or something before anyone else went there and got hurt. So we finally found Officer O'Malley and told him about what we had found. We took him to the place and when we got there, there were a bunch of dumb kids throwing rocks at another pile!

"Well Officer O'Malley went down there, grabbed them by their ears, chewed them out and told them that he would make sure their mothers found out about how stupid they were. Came back to us and asked us if we had done anything like that. 'No sir,' we said. So he took us home, told our Ma's we were heroes and exemplarily youth and all that. And we lived happily ever after. The end."

"That was a pretty good story," Newkirk yawned. "But the ending could use a little work."

"Tell us another one," Olsen murmured in a sleepy voice.

"Don't have anymore," Hogan shrugged.

"That was your whole childhood?" Kinch asked incredulously.

"Pretty much."

"Then tell us a real story. You must know one or two."

Hogan sighed. It was going to be a long night. "Ever heard about Androcles and the lion?"

* * *

Stole the story from my Pa. How he survived his childhood is beyond me.


End file.
